Work Text:
Clint and Tony were suicidal, the rest of the team were CERTAIN of that particular fact. VERY certain. Especially right at this moment.
“Aw, does the little god need his hand held while he attempts to destroy the puny little mortals?” Tony crooned.
“No, he’s just grumpy because it’s time for his diaper change.” Clint rolled his eyes.
Loki froze, and turned. “You mere mortals,” he said, emotionless, “Need to learn a lesson.” And suddenly Clint was down and Tony’s arc reactor was simply gone, the billionaire choking for air around maniacal laughter.
Who dares touch MY merchant? WHO DARES?
Loki blinked and looked around, only to see a Woman dressed all in black. Cropped hair framed Her face, pixie-like, and empty eyes stared out from the chill that emanated from Her bones.
Oh, mine, what has he done to you? She whispered, voice sorrowful, hand tracing Tony’s cheekbone.
“Forget me, what about Barton?” Tony asked, voice ragged.
The archer? You may have him back. Her voice was tender, loving, and suddenly Clint was breathing, choking on air, eyes wide.
“What the HELL?” he asked.
YOU! The Woman turned on Loki. You DARE touch what is MINE, father?
Loki cowered in fear. “Forgive me Hella; I did not know.” with a snap of Her fingers, he was gone, and the Avengers free of their bonds as She turned to them.
Do you have something to do with this? She demanded.
“No,” Tony said, apparently beginning to recover. “No, they’re friends.” his eyes, though, were on Clint. The Lady’s voice softened.
Darling little one, I shall leave them then. Good hunting.
Tony beamed. “Thank you.” and She was gone.
“Tony, what just happened?” Clint asked. “I kinda coulda sworn I was dead.”
“You were, but I? I am the Merchant of Death. And She doesn’t like it when people mess with what’s Hers.” Tony smirked a little, almost sadly, and definitely bitterly. “And I am definitely that.”